


You vs. Frank Castle

by Houndsof221b



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Missionary Position, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Spanking, Swearing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8372191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houndsof221b/pseuds/Houndsof221b
Summary: As a paramedic it is your job to help people. So when you find a wounded man, who refuses to go to hospital, right around the corner of your apartment, you take it upon yourself to patch him up.Soon you realize who he is, but it doesn't scare you. In fact, you want to know more about him.And after he leaves you, you are desperate to meet him again. “What's your name?”, you then decided to ask him and after a few seconds of silence he answered.“Frank.”, he said and as he uttered that one syllable, you suddenly realized who you had in front of you.It could only be him, even if he was assumed dead.Frank Castle was sitting on your couch.





	1. Stitches

Walking home alone at night was never fun.  
Every sound made you jump, every person made you feel unsafe and you couldn't wait to get back home to be safe again.  
Nothing has ever happened to you before, but hearing all the stories that happen to other women... it makes one think, especially with all those things that have been happening in Hell's Kitchen lately.  
So you tried to walk as fast as possible, trying to stick to the busier roads and be vigilant about everything.  
It also didn't help that you were a little drunk. It was your best friends birthday and you celebrated in a bar and obviously you were all drinking. You didn't plan on walking home, but your driver decided last minute to drink too and you couldn't afford a cab, so walking it was.  
But it wasn't that far anyway, so it wasn't that bad. It was also good, that it was still warm outside.  
Straggling along in your high heels, you just tried to get home safely.

You were nearly in front of your front door and were about the walk up the few steps to the door, when you saw that someone was sitting in the alley next to the house.  
You knew you were probably going to regret it, but you were a paramedic, so it was kinda your duty to check if that person needed help.  
Suddenly it felt like you had sobered up again, but that was probably just the fear and slight adrenaline in your blood to keep you on edge and be able to get out of that situation as quickly as possible if anything went south.

You slowly walked towards the person and looked around to see if it wasn't a trap, but everything seemed quiet, so you squatted down next to, what you now recognized to be a man.  
The man was either dead or passed out, he had cuts and bruises on his face and probably all over his body, so the first thing you did was to take his wrist and put two fingers against it to find a pulse and you were relieved to find that he was still alive, but his pulse was quite weak and looking at his wounds, you guessed that he must have lost a lot of blood.  
You patted along his body and his pockets to find a wallet or a phone to find out who he is, but instead you found something else. A gun.

“Fuck...”, you muttered to yourself.  
You grabbed into the inside of his coat and pulled the gun out, making sure that the safety is on and then putting it in your handbag.  
While you padded down the rest of his body, his hand suddenly snatched your wrist.  
You looked at him, your pulse suddenly beating way too fast, and he looked at you and you guessed he saw the fear in your eyes, because he suddenly let go of your arm.  
In a slight state of shock, you watched as he tried to get up, pushing himself up against the wall he was leaning on.

Once you fully realized what he was doing, you snapped out of it.  
“No, no, no, don't get up! You need an ambulance!”, you told him while trying to stop him.  
“Bullshit.”, he only mumbled and you could hear that his voice was deep and gravely.  
You watched as he tried to keep himself on his feet, leaning heavily against the building.  
“You can't even stand upright”, you said, trying to convince him to sit down again.  
“Listen, I can't exactly go to the hospital alright?”, he told you.  
“Then come with me, I live in the building you're leaning against right now, I can patch you up, god damn it, because you are probably bleeding out as we speak”, you tried to sound as firm as possible, but also in a way that made him realize that he could trust you. You couldn't just leave him like that in the streets of Hell's Kitchen.  
He looked you up and down for a few seconds, before deciding that you were probably right and that he wouldn't last that much longer without any treatment.  
“Alright”, he mumbled.  
“Then come on”, you said and led the way.

While you walked into the house and got into the elevator, you kept checking that he was still standing and wouldn't pass out again.  
You went up to your apartment on the fourth floor. You opened the door and let him in, hoping desperately that you wouldn't regret this decision.  
“Sit on the couch”, you said, while putting your handbag down and taking the awful high heels off, then you went to get the first aid kit, a cloth and a bowl of warm water.  
Going back into the living room, you saw him sit on my couch, as you told him to do, but he was also without his shirt.  
He wasn't that much taller than you, maybe half a foot, but he had a strong, broad and trained built.  
And his upper body, was covered in fresh and old wounds, messy scars and bruises.

You took a deep breath and then walked over and sat down next to him, putting the bowl and the kit down on the table.  
“Alright, let's stitch you up", you whispered, more to yourself than to him.  
You looked at his chest and saw that he had a couple of cuts, some that wouldn't require stitches, others that were quite deep.  
“I'd say we start with the ones that need suturing first, get it over with”, you suggested.  
“Do what you gotta do”, he only said in that deep voice again.

You put on a pair of gloves, cleaned the wound first and then got out needle and thread and started on a cut in his side.  
You looked over his body and at all those scars and it was remarkable that he didn't even really flinch when you put the needle through his skin, which meant that he was used to it and by how the healed scars looked, you wouldn't be surprised if he would stitch himself up every once in a while.

“Do you have any deep ones anywhere else?”, you asked him.  
“My back”, he replied.  
You soon realized that he would only speak if spoken to and then also in very few words.  
He turned his back to you and you immediately saw which wound he meant. It was a stab wound, you assumed, and it seemed to be quite deep.  
Again you cleaned it and then started stitching it up.  
“So you got into a fight?”, you asked him, but to that, he didn't reply anything.  
You finished his back and then tended to the more superficial wounds.

After you did all that, you moved on to his face and started cleaning that.  
He got away with a major wound on his cheek, but even that one wasn't deep enough to need stitches, the rest was just really bruised and bloodied.  
You taped the wound shut with some butterfly closures and then cleaned everything else with some warm water and a soft cloth.  
“What's your name?”, you then decided to ask him and after a few seconds of silence he answered.  
“Frank”, he said and as he uttered that one syllable, you suddenly realized who you had in front of you.  
It could only be him, even if he was assumed dead.  
Frank Castle was sitting on your couch.  
Now without all that blood on his face, you even recognized him from all the pictures that were all over New York.  
There was nothing left of his military haircut. It was all grown out now and standing in every direction. A mess of black, wild hair. You kinda agreed with him, even though his methods were a bit unorthodox.  
He didn't hurt anyone that wasn't a criminal and didn't deserve it.

You looked at him intently.  
Behind the intensity in his eyes there was a kindness, a softness.  
Up close, he didn't look as threatening.  
And under normal circumstances he would be that kind of person that you would like to get to know better, but these were not normal circumstances.  
There was a convicted murderer on your couch, who escaped from prison and should actually be dead, but you could still feel the curiosity nagging at the back of your head and your didn't like it.

You tried to stay calm. He had no reason to hurt you, after all you actually probably just saved his life.  
“Y/N”, you then said to try and break the silence. “My name's Y/N.”  
You cleaned him up some more and then sat back.  
“I'm finished, but you should take it slow the next few days, rest and maybe take some pain killers.”, you suggested to him, even though you already knew in your gut that he wouldn't rest.  
The Punisher doesn't rest.

Frank then sat up and pulled his shirt over again without the slightest wincing of pain.  
“Thanks, Ma'am”, he said and then stood up and walked over to the door.  
“You're welcome”, you replied before he stepped out the door and disappeared into the night again.  
You thought that that was the last you'd ever see of Frank Castle and you didn't know how to feel about that.  
There was the obvious relief, but there was also something akin to regret.  
But it was too late now.

After that you went to bed but you couldn't fall asleep for a while because you were still thinking about Frank Castle. You _didn't_ want to think about him. It would've been best to just forget that this has ever happened. But you _couldn't_.

It was the relentless tiredness and the rest of the alcohol still in your blood that then finally put you to sleep.


	2. Haunting

When you woke up the next day you felt exhausted and for a moment you wondered if the Punisher was really in your apartment last night or if it was just a dream, but a quick look around the living room where the first aid kit still was, told you that it was real.  
You let out a sigh. What were you thinking?  
In the beginning you didn't even know who he was, but the gun in his pocket should have been reason enough not to bring him home.  
The gun... You quickly walked to your handbag and opened it to find the gun still in there. You had completely forgotten about it.  
So now you didn't only have a tête-a-tête in your living room with a wanted serial killer, but you also had a gun that he had probably killed someone with. Great.  
  
What were you supposed to do with it now?  
Throw it in the river? Keep it here and hope no one ever finds it? Both had its pros and cons.  
To get to the river you first had to get there, carrying the gun with you through the city. That wasn't exactly a good idea.  
Keeping it here was for now the safest option.  
You took it out of the handbag and went into your bedroom again, opened a drawer where you had only scarves in it. Because it was summer now, so you wouldn't need to get into that drawer any time soon.  
You pulled a scarf out and wrapped it around the gun and then shoved it into the far back.

Weeks went by and soon the meeting with Frank Castle seemed almost surreal and as if it had never happened, but still you couldn't let it go. You couldn't let Frank go. Even though you knew that it was the most ridiculous thing, you still hoped that Frank would show up again one day. You just need to know why he does what he does, because you know that there is more to him than the media ever let on. And in that short time you had with him, you realized that. You saw it in his eyes. But how could you ever meet him again? He was good at staying hidden and the only possibility was him coming to you. However, that was highly unlikely. He didn't want to come with you the first time, he only did because his life had depended on it. You shouldn't hold your breath and spend time waiting for him. It was time to let him go, even if he wasn't really yours to begin with. So mentally you said goodbye to Frank Castle.

Another week went by when one night, you were suddenly woken up by a sound. Your heart was beating fast and you tried to hear where the sound was coming from and after a few more seconds you were sure that it was coming from inside your apartment. You struggled with the idea of getting up and checking out what it was or just staying here in your bed and wait for it to be gone. But then you heard it again and you knew you couldn't just ignore it. You got up as slowly and quietly as you dared and looked around for something to use as a weapon in case you needed one and when your eyes landed on the drawer you remembered the gun that was stashed in there. You pulled it open and got it out, again trying not to make a sound.

The gun felt cold against your sweaty hands and they were shaking, not only from the weight of the weapon, but because you were scared. It could be nothing, but it could also be someone trying to kill you. You knew how to handle a gun, your dad had taught you when you were younger, but you hadn't used one in a very long time. You put the gun up, ready to point it at the possible intruder. You left the bedroom, entering the living room and then you saw someone, just sitting on your couch. You took a deep breath and swallowed hard, hoping that your voice wouldn't shake when you spoke the next words: “Put your hands up.”

The person, you assumed a man, didn't move. You pulled the hammer of the gun back, the noise indicating for you intruder that you were armed. For a second he still didn't move, but then he slowly raised his hands. “Now get up and slowly turn around.”, you said, trying to sound firm, but there was a slight wavering in your voice. You watched as the man got up from the couch and turn around and when you finally saw his face, you couldn't believe who it was, but you weren't sure, maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you in the dark.  
“Frank?”, you breathed out.  
“It's me, it's okay, I'm not here to harm you. You can put the gun down”, Frank whispered with an oddly calming voice. You hesitated though.  
What was he doing here? But then again, you wanted him to come back, so you couldn't hold a gun – his gun – to his chest. You let out a slow and shaky breath and then put the gun down, but still holding it in your hands. Frank put his hands down, too.

Even though the light that came from the streets illuminated the room enough to see, you still turned on a light. “Frank, what the hell are you doing here?”, you asked him.  
“I got shot and I needed somewhere to lay low for a few hours and I was just around the corner. Hoped I could patch myself up and leave without you noticing”, he answered and this was the longest sentence you've ever heard him say.  
“Well, too bad, I noticed”, you only replied. “How long have you been here?”, you then wanted to know.  
“Not long” Back to the short answers.  
“Have you tended to your wound already?”  
“Was just about to.”  
“Then let me do it.” 

You saw that the first aid kid was already on the table in front of your couch again, so he must have taken it out.  
“Sit”, you said while walking over to him.  
You put the gun down on the table next to the kit and then looked at him and immediately saw where he got shot. Right shoulder.  
“Take your shirt off”, you commanded and he did as you said.  
You took a close look at his wound.  
“Wondered where that went”, he muttered.  
“What?”, you asked, you didn't know if that sentence was addressed to you or not.  
“The gun. Thought I'd lost it when I passed out”, he replied.  
“Oh”, you swallowed and sat back. “I took it when I found you. Couldn't know what you'd do when you woke up and then I forgot about it until the next day”, you explained to him. “Didn't wanna get rid of it?”, he asked.  
“Thought about it, but it was too risky getting caught with it and probably being matched to a lot of murders”, you suddenly regretted what you said. Did you go too far? “Smart”, he said, seeming unoffended

It was quiet again and you took another look at his wound.  
“It looks good, went clean through, didn't hit any bones”, you told him, but he probably knew that already. You cleaned the wound and only stitched it with two stitches on the entry wound side, and with four on the other and then bandaged it up.  
You knew Frank knew, that you were aware of who he was, but it was like an unspoken, but open secret between the two of you.  
“Okay, I'm done, but you should really rest for a while, Frank. You can't go out again right away to continue your crusade. You need to heal”, you then said once you were finished and you didn't know if that last sentence was about his new physical wound, or the ones unseen.  
“I can't. Honestly don't even know why I came here”, he replied quietly.

You looked at him and everything about him screamed exhaustion.  
The dark circles under his eyes, his pale skin and just how he was sitting on your couch and in that moment you made a decision.  
“Well, maybe it was a sign... for me to tell you to just stop, for just one night?”, you said calmly.  
He scoffed and while he didn't say anything, you could hear in that one sound how much it pained him to know that you were right.  
“You can stay here if you want”, you offered and you didn't know what compelled you to do that.  
“Can't, I shouldn't have come here in the first place”, he explained and was already putting his shirt on again and you knew that if you didn't stop him now, you would lose him again.  
It was stupid to use such a word as lose, but that's how it felt right now.

Subconsciously you put a hand on his arm, a gesture to make him settle down again, your body wanting to keep him close.  
“You're already here, doesn't make a difference now”, you argued while you looked him in the eyes and when you saw that his gaze diverted to your hand on his arm, you quickly removed it and kept on speaking: “I knew what I got myself into when I invited you into my home the first time. I'm not stupid. You know that I know.”  
And while it was true that you knew that you would get yourself into something if you took a man from the streets into your apartment, you didn't know to what extent.  
To that Frank Castle didn't reply anything and you took that as a small victory. 

“You can sleep on the couch. There's some food in the fridge. Make yourself at home”, you told him while you got up and slowly started walking to your bedroom again.  
“You got any coffee?”, he asked you from behind.  
“Sorry, no, I don't really drink coffee”, you said after you had turned around towards him again.  
“What kinda person doesn't drink coffee?”, he asked.  
“I don't know, but someone once told me that it was the most interesting thing about me. So I can't give that up, can I?”, you slightly joked and you could've sworn that you saw a light twitch at the corner of his mouth.  
“Goodnight, Frank.”  
“Night, Y/N”, he answered and something inside you happened when you heard him say your name.

You didn't find much sleep that night.  
You were laying in bed, trying to listen to the sounds of Frank in the room next door. You heard him walk around for a bit after you left him on his own, then you heard him settle down and turn on the TV and after a while he turned it off again and then you couldn't hear anything anymore.  
You were tempted to go into the living room again to look at him. Because as weird as it sounds, you wanted to see him asleep, to see him at peace even for a little while. However, you stayed in bed and shortly before you saw the sun rise again over the city, you heard the front door open and close. You were disappointed that he didn't even say goodbye or thank you.  
Maybe he didn't want to wake you, but you were still a little sad.

You couldn't understand why you felt this undeniable attraction to Frank. A man you know has killed many people. A man you know is not exactly the definition of a good guy. But you couldn't help it. You were fascinated by him and a little something else that you didn't even want to admit to yourself.  
Who knows, though, when you would see him again.  
Would it be never? Would it be weeks? Or maybe even just a day? You wanted Frank Castle in your life and you would be lying if you said that it didn't scare you.

After he had left, you managed to fall asleep even if only for an hour before you had to get ready for work.  
You couldn't blame Frank for you sleepless night, after all you practically wished him back here.


	3. Heavy In Your Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning!!!  
> There is an attempted rape scene in this chapter, so if this triggers or upsets you, please do not read it!!!

While you were getting ready for work, all you could think about was Frank. You were thinking about why he came to you last night   
If his scars were any indication, he had no problem with stitching his own wounds, he could have done it anywhere. So why at your apartment?   
You also couldn't stop thinking about how his skin felt under your fingers when you had touched his arm. Firm and surprisingly warm and soft.   
But you had to shake this all off. 

Yes, he came back, but that didn't mean that he would do it again.   
And you couldn't get attached. You can't allow yourself that.   
It was irrational and stupid. He was a serial killer and while he had a somewhat good reason for doing all these things, it didn't change the fact that he did them.   
You were there at some of the shooting sites as a paramedic and first response. Seeing all those dead people. They were bad people, but still he killed them.   
So how could you forget all these things just because you've looked into his eyes and thought you saw something more than just a villainous murderer?

You didn't even really know him.   
You met him twice. And once of those instances was after he broke into your apartment. Also he maybe said a handful of words to you.  
So why, against all of your better judgment, are you still thinking about him? Why do you still want to see him again? Why do you still want to get to know him?   
It didn't make any sense. 

You just hoped that it would be a busy day at work, so you would be distracted enough to not think about him for some hours.   
So that's what you did. Go to work and not think about him.   
And working as a paramedic was great for that. It was a job where concentration was key. Literally life and death.   
And when your shift was nearly over, you allowed yourself to think about Frank for just a second. Wondering if he was hurt again or doing the hurting.   
But a sudden emergency called ripped you out of your thoughts and you and your colleagues were dispatched again to where gunshots were reported. 

This was Hell's Kitchen, gunshots weren't really that unusual.   
But once you were finished and all the victims at the crime scene were pronounced dead, you allowed yourself to look around for a second and you should've recognized it earlier.   
This scene was Frank's doing. It's his m.o., no doubt.   
You knew that some of the people that were shot, were members of a gang, word gets around, so it was really no secret and that's how you knew. And now you weren't surprised anymore why they were found dead.   
This was Frank's work and a shiver ran down your spine. 

It also answered your question about what Frank was doing. He did the hurting. 

Of course police wouldn't suspect him anymore, he was basically pronounced dead himself, but you knew better. You knew he was still alive and walking around, doing his work.   
And you had seen enough of his crime scenes to know what it looked like. 

Only now did it begin to sink in, that you really had a murderer on your couch twice now.   
But what scared you even more, was that it didn't really change how you felt about him. You still felt this yearning. This urge to see him again and get to know him.   
And once you realized that, you knew you were already in too deep. 

***

That night you decided to get drunk.   
You haven't had a proper good night's sleep since you first invited Frank into your home.   
So getting drunk and forgetting all about your worries for a single night would be great.   
And that was what you did.   
You took your best friend and went to your usual bar and you both got really, really drunk.   
And you had fun. 

After 3 am had passed, you both decided to call it a night. Your friend took a cab to her place, but since you were living quite close, you decided to walk home with the promise to text your friend once you've arrived.   
Luckily you weren't wearing high heels tonight, because otherwise, it would've felt like a trip through hell. Breathing in the fresh air you only now realized how drunk you really were and your head was spinning terribly.   
But you pulled yourself together and started walking homewards.   
Your drunk brain didn't even consider the danger that could be lurking in the dark alleyways and what easy bate you were right now. 

However, that immediately changed when a man suddenly stood in front of you.   
“Hey there, beautiful”, the man said. You didn't reply. Your body was on high alert and you took a step back.   
“A little late to be walking around alone... and drunk.”  
The man came two step closer and now everything inside you was screaming to just run away and get home as fast as you could.   
“That's why I'm going home right away”, was the only thing you said and then you wanted to walk past him, but he grabbed your arm in a bruising grip.   
“Oh, no. Stay a little, no need to rush home now. I'm sure we can find a way to entertain ourselves” His face was blurry, so you couldn't discern any features, but you could see that he had a beard and a big built and seemed a lot stronger than you and now real fear started to bubble up inside of you.

You were still too far away from home. If you ran now, there would be no guarantee that he wouldn't catch you again.   
“Please, don't”, you only brought out, but he got closer again.  
You could now also smell his foul stench of alcohol, sweat and something else that nearly made you throw up. 

You tried to wriggle yourself out of his grip on your arm.   
“Let go of me”, you spat at him, but you already knew that it was futile. His grip was too hard on your arm and now he also grabbed your other arm and held you in an iron grip, so you tried to reason with him.   
“Let me go now and I won't yell, you can just leave.”  
“Oh go on, yell as much as you want, no one will help you.”  
You knew he was right, but you screamed anyway, hoping that someone would hear you and come to your help.   
But without any hesitation, the man slapped you across the face, silencing you that way.   
Pain shot through your face and you knew that your bottom lip was bleeding. 

He grabbed you again and now pushed you into one of the dark alleys and then against a wall.   
And now all the fear broke through, you knew that you couldn't get out and no one would come to help you. His hands were all over your body, pulling your shirt down, groping at your breasts.  
You tried pushing him off you, kicking him, screaming and begging, but it was all for nothing.   
Now he just turned you around and pressed your face against the brick wall, scraping your cheek against it.  
He pressed himself against you and you heard the metallic clinking of his belt opening and you knew that there was no getting out now.  
Once more you tried to get free, as one last attempt, but he just smacked your head against the wall. Now feeling lightheaded and dizzy, you were even easier bate.   
You felt his hands trail up your thigh and then pushing up your skirt. 

Tears were running down your cheeks and before you knew what was happening, the weight of the man suddenly disappeared.   
You quickly turned around to see what was happening, but your vision was too blurry from the tears, the alcohol and from when he hit your head against the wall, but you could see another man, violently punching him in the face over and over again until the man that attacked you was on the ground and no longer moving. You didn't know if he was dead or just unconscious but frankly, in that moment, you didn't care. 

You were leaning against the wall, otherwise you wouldn't have been able to stand up straight, trying to figure out who the man was that just saved you.   
And when he came up to you, you didn't know if I should be scared or grateful.   
“Hey, hey, it's me” A voice then said and even through your fogged up brain you still knew that it was Frank.   
“Frank...”, you let out between sobs while the tears kept rolling down your face.  
“Are you okay?”, he looked you up and down and you only shook your head while trying to cover yourself up again with shaky hands.   
“It's alright, I'm gonna get you home, okay? Can you walk?”, he then said and you were already so eternally grateful to him.  
You nodded, wiping tears from your face and pushed yourself off the wall, but as soon as you had no more support, your vision went black and you felt your legs give in, but you didn't feel yourself hit the ground. 

You woke up again a few minutes later and you realized that you were in someones arms being carried. Frank's arms.   
“Thank you”, you mumbled, but Frank didn't answer. You weren't sure if he hadn't heard it or if he just didn't want to be thanked and seen as a savior.  
But to you, that's exactly who he was. He saved you from being raped, abused and who knows, maybe even killed. You owed him your life. 

You rested your head against his chest and heard his steady, firm heartbeat.   
And after a few more minutes you noticed that you were entering a building, your building, and soon you were inside your apartment.   
He sat you down on the couch and then got the first aid kit.  
Frank sat down on the coffee table so he was in opposite of you and so he could look better at you.   
He didn't talk while cleaning your wounds, most of them weren't major, but you hadn't realized that when he bashed your head against the wall, it had actually started bleeding.   
Your cheek was just scraped and there was nothing he could do for your busted lip. 

Frank's touch was so gentle. He tried so hard not to hurt you. Who knew that the hands that were the cause of so many dead people, could also be so soft and gentle?  
And when he looked you in the eyes, you saw sorrow, but also a little anger and you didn't know why.   
You mean, sorrow you could understand, but why would he be angry at you?

When he was done, he didn't look at you, instead he looked down at his folded hands.   
You noticed that they were bloody and raw and you took a bit of the antiseptic and some cotton and then reached for one of his hands.   
He flinched a little when you touched him, but he let it happen anyway.   
You ran the cotton over his knuckles and cleaned them, first the one hand, then the other.   
“You're angry”, you more or less stated, quietly, still cleaning the knuckles on his other hand. “Why?”  
“Don't”, he muttered. “Don't do this.”  
“What?”, you didn't know what he meant.   
“Don't try to get to know me, figure out what's inside me... You should stay as far away from me as possible.”, he mumbled, his deep voice gravely and you could still hear suppressed anger in it, but also sadness. 

“Then why did you save me tonight?”, you didn't want Frank to do this. Didn't want him to close up again. He wasn't yours, but you didn't want to lose him.   
“Cause you screamed for help. Did you really think I would just let that bastard rape you?”, he scoffed, you could feel his hand tense up in yours.   
“No, but why didn't you just leave me there? Call an ambulance and be done with it? Why bring me here and clean my wounds?”, you wanted to know, squeezing his hand slightly.

But once again, Frank invaded your question. Pulling his hand out of yours and getting up, walking up and down in front of the couch.   
“You wanna know why I'm angry?”, he asked, but before you could even answer he kept going.   
“Not because that scumbag tried to rape you, because that's what assholes like him do. But because you were so stupid to get yourself drunk and then strut down those streets in the middle of the night, not even thinking about what could happen and then not even being able to defend yourself!”

He now got louder, but his voice was still deep and gravely and rough.   
“What, you think I did this on purpose?! That this is all my fault?!”, you couldn't believe what he was insinuating.  
“No, it's that fucking guys fault, but I know that we have met one too many times and it has to stop.”  
Frank stopped in his tracks, looked at you and then at the door, taking a step towards it.   
“You wanna know why I got drunk?”, you asked him and he stopped to listen. But he didn't turn around.   
“Because since that first night I dragged you in here, all I could think about is you. I can't even sleep. So yes, tonight I got drunk, but just because I wanted a few hours of mindless fun and not have to think about you. Not having to try to convince myself that you are bad for me, but still, against my better judgment, wanting to see you again.”

Frank didn't move. You weren't even sure if he was breathing.   
“So yes, maybe subconsciously, I did do it on purpose, yet I couldn't possibly know that you would be around to save me. But you are here now. And you haven't left yet.”  
Frank didn't say anything, he just took those few steps towards the door and left, slamming it shut behind him.

That was probably the last you would see of Frank Castle.

Tears welled up in your eyes. You didn't want to cry because of a man you hardly knew.   
But then again, you weren't so sure if you were even really crying about Frank. Part of you was crying because of what happened and because you knew that Frank was right when he said that you were stupid walking home drunk and alone. You knew it wasn't your fault that that man wanted to rape you. It's not the victims fault. But if you had just taken a cab or went with your friend. All that wouldn't have happened.   
But then again, that also meant that Frank wouldn't have been there to save you, wouldn't have carried you home and touched you with the gentlest of touches.   
It all came down to Frank again. Always Frank. 

Just thinking about how gently he had touched your face and mumbled something that you thought must have been apologies when you winced in pain.   
How his thumb went over your bottom lip, slightly pulling it down, to see how deep the cut in it was.   
How he was so close you could feel his breath on your skin and smell his scent. Leather, gunpowder, copper and soap.   
How his fingers softly ran over the bruises that were already forming where the man had gripped your arms.   
How his hand felt in yours. 

And in that moment you couldn't deny it any longer, you were attracted to Frank Castle.   
Not that it mattered anymore.   
You basically told him how you felt and he left. You were sure he wouldn't come back. Especially after that thing he said, that you should stay away from him and that you two had already met too many times.   
You knew that with Frank came danger. You were aware of that, but still, you couldn't deny yourself that you wanted him any longer. 

But it was over now. He was gone and he wouldn't be coming back. 

Or so you thought...


	4. Fire Meet Gasoline

The following nights you couldn't sleep. But this time it wasn't because you were thinking of Frank.   
You had bad dreams. Dreams about that night the man attacked you and Frank saved you, with the exception, that in your dreams, Frank wasn't there to save you.   
Every morning when your alarm rang, you woke up drenched in sweat, panting heavily and your face stained with tears.   
You could usually shake the memory during the day, but at night you were weak and vulnerable and it kept invading your thoughts. 

Luckily you could play off your wounds from the attack with the lie that you hurt yourself when you were stumbling home drunk that night. And they seemed to believe you.  
But your colleagues started asking if you weren't feeling well, because you were looking very pale and sickly and offered to cover your shifts and for the longest time you denied, but there came a day where you just couldn't take it any longer.   
You needed a day off and you asked one of your colleagues if they would cover for you and of course they did.   
You loved your job and you loved helping people, but helping people kept you from helping yourself and that's what you needed. 

So you were planning a long overdue self care day.   
Taking a long hot bath, reading a book, watching TV, cooking something lovely to eat.   
All those good things, just being by yourself and relaxing.   
Creating a Frank-free zone.  
That's exactly what you needed. 

And it all worked out well, until nighttime rolled around.   
You were sure you were going to sleep fine tonight, but once you've closed your eyes and fallen asleep, it all started again.   
This time however, something was different.   
You weren't woken up by your alarm, but right when Frank came in in real life, there was knocking on your door, waking you up. 

For a second, you thought that it must be Frank. But you quickly discarded that thought. Frank had made it pretty clear that he wanted nothing to do with you. However you were somewhat grateful to whoever it was, because they ripped you out of this nightmare.  
You tiptoed towards the door, looking through the peephole, but the person outside was no one else but Frank. Your heartbeat quickened. You promised yourself to stop thinking about him, to forget about him. But now he was standing in front of your door and you realized that you were lying to yourself. You couldn't stop thinking about him. You still wanted him just as much as the last time and the time before that. 

You took a deep breath before opening the door.   
“Frank”, you said, looking up at him. He didn't have any new wounds (at least none that you were aware of), which meant he most likely didn't come to get patched up again. So why did he come? He looked you up and down, making you painfully aware that you were only wearing a nightie that hit just above your knee and your underwear underneath. It was part of you self-care plan. Wearing something that made you feel good. But there's no need in being shy now, he's already seen you.   
“You wanna come in?”, you asked, because he wasn't saying anything and also because you didn't want to leave him standing in the doorway.   
He nodded and you stepped aside. 

You turned on a small lamp and now you were both just standing in the room, looking at each other in the dim light.   
“I thought you said that it was bad for us to meet and that I should stay away from you … so why are you here?”, you wanted to know.   
“Last time you said you wanted to see me again...”, he began and came a few steps closer to you, so now you had to look up to look into his eyes.   
“That still true?”, he asked you and you only nodded. You didn't know what he was here for, but you knew that if you spoke now, your voice would be shaky. He was so close to you. Painfully close.  
He looked at your face intently, as if he was looking for the answer to an unspoken question.   
The air around you was electric and the way Frank looked at you made you blush. 

And then it all went very quickly, suddenly he had closed the gap between you, his hands were on your cheeks, pulling you in and his lips were on yours.   
His lips were so surprisingly soft and warm and like his touch so gentle, everything you wouldn't expect from someone like him. But then he pulled away, way too early, way too quickly.   
Again he looked into your eyes and his warm brown eyes were now filled with so much softness and lust it nearly overwhelmed you.  
Now you got onto your tiptoes and leaned into a kiss and what started as gentle and tame, soon grew more passionate and intense.   
One of his hands wandered down your cheek and your body and then snaked around you waist, pulling you flush against him. In returned you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him with everything you had in you. Tangling your fingers into his hair.   
You didn't realize how much you truly wanted this to happen until it now finally did. 

Frank kissed you like no one had kissed you in a very long time.   
His lips were so greedy, so starved of touch and affection.   
You were so close to him, you could feel the heat radiating from him through his clothes.   
Both his hands wandered down even further your body and once he had them on the back of your thighs, he lifted you up, with what seemed such ease. All while still kissing you. You wrapped your legs around him and now you could feel his growing bulge against your most sensitive part.   
Your nightie rode up and was now bunched around your hips, but you couldn't care less. 

Frank took a few steps and then you felt a wall against your back, cold and hard, such a contrast to his hot body.   
His hands were now on your butt, to keep you steady, and then he released your lips, focusing his attention on your neck, kissing, sucking and biting and now you couldn't hold back a moan. Your head was spinning.   
He was already driving you crazy like this, you couldn't imagine how it would be feeling him inside of you. 

You could feel yourself getting wetter and more tender by the second and you needed more friction to relieve the ache between your legs.   
So you ground yourself against his groin, biting your lips as you did so and digging your nails into your shoulders.   
Frank let go of your neck for a second.   
“Someone's eager”, he growled, now grinding against you, too.  
“God, please...”, you moaned, throwing your head back and closing your eyes.  
“Please what?”, he wanted to know and you could hear a smirk in his voice.   
“Fuck, please, I need you”, you basically begged now, digging your nails even deeper into his skin.  
“You want me to make you cum?”, he asked but of course he already knew the answer.   
“Yes”, you managed to breathe out. 

Frank pulled you closer to him again and then carried you over to the bed where he laid you down.   
You sat up, sitting on the end of the bed and Frank was standing between your legs and you looked up at him.   
“Go on”, he said and you knew exactly what he wanted you to do and your mouth started watering at the prospect of it.   
You put your hands up to the buckle of his belt and opened it and then you did the same to his pants, pushing them down together with his boxer-briefs to release his erection and you didn't waste any time taking his cock into your hand.   
He was thick and hot and you couldn't wait for him to be buried inside of you, but first you moved your hand up and down a few times before then finally licking a broad stripe up the underside and then taking him into your mouth. All while still maintaining eye contact with Frank.   
You hollowed your cheeks, alternating between taking him deep into your mouth and working on the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it.   
And the way he looked down at you... you couldn't even describe it. You just knew, that right now you would do anything he wanted you to do. 

Frank gathered your hair up into a ponytail and then guided your head up and down the length of his cock.   
“Good girl”, you heard him mutter between soft moans, and hearing those sounds come out of Franks mouth was nothing short of magic.   
You took him so deep now that you could feel the tip hitting the back of your throat.   
“Fuck, you look so good with your mouth stretched around my cock”, he said.   
“And you love it, too, don't you?”, he wanted to know and he pulled you off him only so you could give him an answer.   
You nodded, looking up at him, licking your lips.

Frank let go of your hair.  
“Take your dress off”, he told you and you did without hesitation and he got his shirt of as well.   
Then Frank got down onto his knees in front of you, so you were pretty much on eye-level.   
Now you were only sitting in front of him in your panties. You looked at his naked chest and you couldn't help yourself but touch him, letting your hands wander over all the scars and feeling the smooth skin where no injury has struck.   
Frank then put his hands over yours and then leaned in for a kiss again and after he had released you, he gently pushed you back onto the bed, with him above you.   
He let go of your hands and then kissed down your body, your neck again and then down to your breasts, softly nipping at one hardened bud and then the other one, swirling his tongue around them, then kissing the valley between them while still softly massaging them.   
Going down further with kisses and then dipping the tip of his tongue into your navel. 

And once his hands have reached the rim of your panties, he hooked his fingers under the waistband and started tugging it down. You lifted your hips to make it easier for him to get them off and now you were completely exposed to him.   
He then spread your legs further apart and started kissing the inside of your thighs, getting achingly close to your center that needed his attention so badly, but not quite indulging you yet. 

“Fuck, Frank, please...”, you muttered almost angry because you were so desperate.   
You tangled your fingers into his hair and tugged on it.   
Frank let out something that sounded like a growl before finally doing what you wanted him to do, his tongue finally touching your center, licking between your folds and circling your sensitive nub.   
While continuing his sweet torture, he grabbed your legs and hooked them over his shoulder and then put his forearm over your stomach to keep you in place. 

Frank sucked and licked your clit and it didn't take long at all for you to feel your first orgasm coming on.   
“Fuck, I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum”, you stammered out while trying to grind your hips closer to him but he kept you in place and just continued his sweet torture until you felt the waves of the orgasm crashing over you, bringing the release you've craved for so long all while moaning out Frank's name and so many mindless curses fell from your lips.   
But he didn't stop there, he didn't even let you catch your breath, he just continued, but now he also slowly pushed a finger into you and it was all almost too much too handle. You were so sensitive from the orgasm before, you felt tears burning in your eyes, but at the same time it all felt so good you just didn't want him to stop.   
You were now pulling even harsher at his hair and with your other hand grabbed the bed sheets.  
Then Frank added another finger, slowly moving them in and out and crooking them so they hit that spot inside you oh-so-perfectly.   
And without any warning the second orgasm of the night hit you.  
He kept doing it until you rode out your orgasm, your fingers relaxing in his hair, and then pulled his fingers out and took your legs off his shoulders. He looked at you while licking his fingers clean and it was such a strangely erotic thing, you couldn't take your eyes off him. 

Frank then lost the rest of his clothes while you went further up the bed so you were now lying in the middle. And then Frank, now completely naked, in all his glory, came crawling up the bed and it almost seemed predatory, his eyes darkened by lust, his hair all messy because of your doing and then he settles between your legs, leaning down to kiss you again and you could taste yourself on his lips and somehow this turned you on even more.   
He kissed you deeply, his tongue entangling with yours. 

He moved so his cock was moving through your folds, but not quite entering you yet and it almost drove you crazy, making you moan into the kiss  
“Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you... how badly you want me to make you cum again... ruin you...”, Franks voice was so deep and rough, vibrating through his body and made your insides stir.   
“I want you so bad, I need you to fuck me hard and deep until I'm sore. I want you to fuck me like you own me”, you said and you meant it all, you just needed to finally feel him inside you.   
And Frank complied at last. 

Inch by inch he sunk into you and you furrowed your brows and closed your eyes at the feeling of him, a slight burning as your pussy stretched around him to accommodate him, but it also already brought so much pleasure.   
“Fuck, you're so tight”, Frank moaned and finally he was completely inside you, filling you up completely.   
“Look at me”, he commanded and you did as you were told and looked at him.   
His eyes scanned your face and you nodded slightly and then he started moving.   
Slowly but steadily, in and out.   
His hand was on your throat, not squeezing or anything, just staying there and you were sure that he could feel your rapid pulse under his fingers.  
“Faster”, you mumbled and now it was Frank's turn to take orders.   
He picked up his tempo and it felt so good, he went deep and hard and thorough.   
You still looked into his eyes and by now you were both breathing heavily, beads of sweat were forming on his body, and you were kissing every once in a while, before Frank pulled out of you.   
“Get on your hands and knees”, he ordered and him being so dominant just turned you on even more, if that was possible, in your current state.   
And as soon as you were in position, he filled you up again, his hands in a bruising grip on your hips and then he was thrusting into you again. But you needed more, pushing back into him to feel him even deeper. 

“Fucking greedy”, he muttered, panting heavily, and then all of a sudden, he slapped your ass and you couldn't deny it, you fucking loved it.  
He did it a couple more times until your ass was sore and stinging and you were so close to cumming again and then he reached around and started working on your clit again with his fingers. 

“Frank... I'm gonna - I'm gonna cum”, you stuttered between heavy breaths.   
“Not yet, you're not”, Frank told you and it took everything in you not to cum right then and there again.   
“I can't...”, you begged, but then you noticed that Frank's thrusts became more erratic and you knew that he must be close, too.   
It took only a few more thrusts and a lot of of concentration to not cum, but then Frank finally said: “Cum for me” And he didn't need to tell you twice, you came with such intensity, your two previous orgasm seemed nothing in comparison.   
“Good girl”, Frank muttered before he came too, spilling his seed into you, letting all sorts of profanities tumble from his lips. Half of it you didn't even understand, but some of the things he said were also praising you and your body.

You stayed like that a little longer until Frank pulled out of you and you could no longer hold yourself up on all fours so you rolled over onto your back and Frank did the same.   
For a while you both just laid there.   
Heavy panting and the sounds from the streets below the only noise in the room.   
The thick smell of sex and sweat hanging over you both. 

Then Frank got up and you thought that he would just get dressed and leave, but instead he went into the bathroom, it was easy to guess where it was, since it was the only other room in this apartment with a door.  
You heard him rummaging around, opening the cupboard, closing it again and then turning on the tap.   
He came back with a wet cloth and set back down on the bed and handing you the cloth and so you started to clean yourself up. 

“Hope I wasn't too rough... didn't hurt you, did I?”, he asked quietly and he sounded genuinely concerned.   
“No, no, not at all...”, you reassured him. “It was...”, you didn't know which word to use. Amazing? Incredible? The best sex you've ever had? But Frank didn't seem to need another word, though.  
“Yeah...”, he answered. 

Once you were finished with cleaning off all the sweat and juices, you put the wet cloth aside and Frank just looked at you and your body as if he was memorizing every freckle, every scar.   
“Frank?”, you asked and waited until you had his attention.   
“Why did you come back? If it's just for sex... then that's fine, I just wanna know the truth”, you said quietly and didn't know how he would react to that or what he would say, but you mentally prepared for anything.   
There was a moment of silence before Frank answered: “You were right, the last time I was here I was angry. But not because of you. I shouldn't have blamed you” He paused for a second and you saw his jaw clench. “When I saw what that bastard had done to you and when you passed out... I was so worried and it freaked me out. I hardly know you and on top of that I haven't cared for anyone like that since...”  
You nodded, showing him that you knew what he meant. Frank took a shaky breath and you reached for his hand.   
You still didn't know what his confession meant for the two of you or the relationship you would now have. If you could even call it that. A relationship.   
“Please stay the night?”, you asked him, because you already saw the doubt of his decision in his face.   
“You sure you want this?”, he asked you in return. And you were sure. You have been sure about all things Frank for a while. 

Without another word, you slipped under the covers and waited for Frank to do the same.   
And when he did, you moved closer to him, gently resting your head on his chest with his arm around you and at first he was tense, but after a few minutes went by he relaxed into your touch.   
You closed your eyes and you were so conscious of every part that touched Frank.   
He then carefully moved his arm so that his fingers could touch your back and he started drawing mindless patterns on your skin and you wanted to stay awake to enjoy it a little longer, but you were exhausted and before you knew it, you were already fast asleep, still in Frank Castle's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i do realize my chapters always kinda end the same???? but like whatever lmao


End file.
